


Lurking

by badly_knitted



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Community: fic_promptly, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 20:23:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4276770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badly_knitted/pseuds/badly_knitted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angel has his own reasons for lurking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lurking

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my own prompt ‘BtVS, Angel, lurking,’ at fic_promptly.
> 
> Slight spoilers for what’s My Line Part 1.

“I lurk.”

Angel had told Buffy that once and she’d mostly taken it as his sorry attempt at humor. That wasn’t strictly true though; he did tend to lurk a lot.

Lurking was one of those things that came naturally to a vampire; they all did it. For most of them, it meant lying in wait for a victim, but Angel’s lurking served a different purpose.

Buffy was the Slayer, the one girl in all the world, but underneath all her Slayer abilities, she was still just a girl. It seemed wrong to him that someone so young should have to shoulder the burden of protecting the world from the forces of darkness alone. So he looked out for her as much as he could, acted as her own personal bodyguard, there in case she needed a hand, but keeping hidden when she didn’t.

He knew he couldn’t do her job for her; she wouldn’t thank him for that. He had to let her fight and learn, grow stronger and more confident in her own abilities, but that didn’t mean he didn’t worry. There was something about her, something pure and innocent that touched him deep inside, and he wanted more than anything to preserve that. Slayers tended to die young, but not Buffy, not if he had anything to do with it.

Each night when she went out on patrol, or out with friends, he was there, shadowing her, being an extra pair of eyes, alert for any danger. Buffy didn’t need to know; she wouldn’t know unless she ran into something she couldn’t handle, and that happened rarely enough that he was able to keep up the pretence that he just happened to be passing, or that he’d heard something big was going down and had been on his way to warn her.

Only when she returned home, went indoors, and he saw the light go out in her bedroom did he finally end his vigil. Then, as the sky began to lighten, he’d slip silently away, a shadow among shadows, to seek shelter from the harsh light of day in the basement room that served as his home. And there he’d wait patiently for the sun to dip below the horizon and night to arrive, so he could be there to watch over her once more.

 

The End


End file.
